Office Affair
by Blue-eyed Fox
Summary: As fas as Hanamichi was concerned, blind dates were nothing but bad news. But could this latest on, the mysterious Mr. T, br the exception to the rule?


**Title:** Office Affair

**Author:** Blue-eyed Fox

**Disclaimer:** Standard Disclaimers applied. I don't own SD. Takehiko Inoue does.

**Status: **One-shot; Yaoi

**Warning:** Self-checked… Sorry for the errors.

**Authoress' Notes: **Sorry I'm late and I know I'm definite dead. I got sick and I'm so damn far away from civilization and I'm stuck in my humble abode that I consider an over-sized caged. This fic is dedicated to Wowie but is a Birthday gift for Hanamichi…^__^ Enjoy! 

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Although Hanamichi promised himself that he was so over blind dates, he couldn't resist the latest one his best bud Youhei was dangling before his eyes: a certain Mr. T. Being completely clueless about who your date would turn out to be is one thing, but having a letter to work with adds an irresistible touch of mystery, and Hanamichi found himself grudgingly agreeing to meet the mystery man, yes, the mystery MAN, that evening for drinks.  But was T the first letter of his name? Was he a doctor? Hanamichi was half sure that T simply stood for Tragedy, as the three previous Youhei-sponsored blind dates have been.

Hanamichi clicked open his computer's message box and typed a note to Youhei: Any other clues? Could he be a 'Torpe' person? [1]

Tonk! Message from Youhei: I think he's a dickhead, but that should be a good thing, right? Hana, I told you, I don't know him either (invisible smirk on Youhei's lips), and he's just highly recommended by Akira.

He burst out laughing as his boss, Mr. Hanagata; a cranky, 27-year-old senior accountant stepped out of his office. He stopped momentarily at the door and glared at Hanamichi, before walking off in a huff to bark a flurry of orders to his three secretaries at the office.

Nothing refreshing, Hanamichi thought. The day Mr. Hanagata actually bares his teeth in a smile and not in a deep, frothy growl will be the day Hanamichi will actually believe in modern-day miracles. Ayako, the firm president's long-time assistant, insisted that before his ex-boyfriend dumped him four years ago, Mr. Hanagata actually sported a sunny disposition. But the memory of a jolly Mr. Hanagata was hazy and whenever Ayako would bring it up in defense of him, all of the other secretaries would snort, groan and start filing their nails.

Hanamichi's face turned deep red. Busted again! Better get back those figures now before his boss fires him for Laughing Like Madman During Office Hours. Certainly those grounds for termination in Hanagata's book, he thought, rolling his eyeballs. At the same instant, Mr. Hanagata chose to make an abrupt turn to head back to his desk.

"Mr. Sakuragi, the Blue Fox account. On my desk. By nine tonight." He lingered a bit longer, as if the urge to ask what was so funny was tormenting his inner being. But the stiffness of his face prevailed, and he retreated tight-lipped back into his office.

Message to Youhei: @#*&! %$@#*!!! Monster Megane Hanagata strikes again! Have to finish a cargo plane-load of paper by tonight! What will happen to Tempting T?

Half an hour later, as Hanamichi was waist-deep in spreadsheets and fax transmissions, there was a message from Youhei: Hey, Kira-kun says T will wait for you at the bar, don't be too late!

A dark cloud settled over Hanamichi's head. Stupid Boss with No Life seemed to be dead-set on zapping out all the entries in his social calendar just because he practically lived in his office. He suspected that he might have already installed a bed and shower in there somewhere because he never seemed to leave it, and today, he was almost sure he had a mini-kitchen in there as well.

Message to Youhei: Remind me to resign ASAP! I can't believe I've worked for him for two whole years—it's no surprise I haven't have a good sex in a looooong time!!! What a dickhead! 

At promptly five in the afternoon, the office secretaries began packing up for the day, chattering energetically as they gathered their bags and shut down their computers. The too-lively conversation about the prices of salmon and what Utada Hikaru album was currently on the racks in the malls was giving Hanamichi a headache. He tried to shut off the noise, but a migraine was creeping in, making it harder for him to concentrate. He had a long way to go, and as he watched the minutes tick away on the large wall clock, he felt his dislike for Monster Megane Hanagata turn into pure hate.

The rest of the world had a social life but he, Hanamichi, junior accountant and the unfortunate underling of a monster did not.

Youhei strolled up his desk, hauling a large file case plus a lunch bag, looking sympathetic. "Don't work too hard, okay?" Youhei said. "And don't make T wait too long, although if he's any self-respecting man, he has every right to leave the place after say, two hours of waiting." Youhei smiled, tapped Hanamichi on the shoulder, and left.

The clock ticked on. 6:30. 6:45. 7:15. 7:55. 8:10. 8:45. And Hanamichi went from desperate to panicky, to resigned and bitter, to half-demented with hate for his boss who showed no sign of emerging from his office. Hanamichi had tossed his coat aside and one side of his white long \-sleeved shirt had come untucked. His red hair was slightly disheveled. All traces of hope that T might still be at Foxes' had left him. As he neared completion of his assignment, he swore venomously that by 9 sharp he would burst into Hanagata's office and slap him sill with the Blue Fox file and accompany it with a head butt. 

9:15. Hanamichi gathered ten thick folders in a tight embrace and marched to Hanagata's office. He stopped at the door and made a mental run-through of his speech for Mr. Hanagata, that as of today, the abuse will stop: no more dumping of last minute assignment's or it's sayonara to the firm. Hanamichi nodded to himself. Yes, he would tell him that. And no amount of his personal troubles can move him to stay with the firm. He was no longer willing to put up with beings merely pretending to be human.

He knocked. He called out, "Hana?"

Hana?! The nerve of this sub-human non-life form! He managed to grunt, "Yes."

"Uhm, come on in."

"I can't open the door. No free hands. Help." He rolled his eyeballs again just as he swung the door open.

He gasped. The sub-human was dressed in a cute-looking workshirt. Must be running a fever from all that working.

Hanamichi, wide-eyed and confused, resisted the urge to demand, "Who are you? What have you done to the Monster? Where did you get your shirt? What's your cologne?"

He spoke first, "You looked...harassed."

"Nine. P.M. Here. Files." Reduced to monosyllabic grunting, Hanamichi became suddenly and painfully aware that he looked like shit. And he looked quite nice. And he smelled nice. There must be really a shower inside. He scanned the room—amazingly neat…the folders all aligned… the shades drawn…mood lighting, hmm, nice…flowers on the table?! His eyes rested on a bouquet of red and orange tulips resting on the mini-conference table. He quickly walked over to the flowers, took them, and sort of shoved them to him. Hanamichi dropped the folders he carried, and looking more confused than ever stared back to him. "Oh my God," he muttered weakly. "Who are you? Where is Mr. Hanagata? What is your name? What is that fabulous scent?" 

"Me?" He stuttered. He began to mirror Hanamichi's confused face. He spoke hesitantly." My name? Toru Hanagata.  I think its ahh…Bvlgari. For men."

After realization hit him like a wrecking ball to the head—T is for Toru!!!— Hanamichi remembered little else as he moved towards him as he stood like a brass statue. He sniffed his collar, closed his eyes and let his nose travel towards his neck, rested his face on the tender skin just below his ear.

Hanagata put a large, warm hand on the small of his back, and began stroking him. Hanamichi brushed his cheek with his and smelled a hint of mint in his mouth. Hanamichi nibbled his lower lip. All of a sudden Hanagata's hands traveled to Hanamichi's butt, and in one swift movement, he lifted him and Hanamichi, in return, straddled him.

Hanagata's breath was hot and urgent, and when he pressed his bare chest against Hanamichi's, his heartbeat was quick. Hanamichi's own heartbeat was pounding in excitement as he blindly let his hands unbuckle Hanagata's belt, and when he finally opened his eyes as Hanagata entered him, he felt astonished that the man he hated a few minutes ago could flood him with so much pleasure—he wondered why they were doing it on the floor instead of the conference table. Maybe tomorrow night.

: Owari :

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**Authoress' Note:** Not to much lime? Not to heavy for lime? Hehehe gomen…. I'll try to make it up to you guys… R and R!

[1] Torpe means a guy who can't make a move and is too stuck up to eve make moves…


End file.
